


A Very Autistic Twilight Reboot

by thicc_succ_for_a_bucc



Series: A Very Autistic Twilight Reboot [1]
Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: ADHD Bella Swan, Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Austism Spectrum Disorder, Autistic Bella Swan, Bisexual Bella Swan, Bullying, Canon? I Do Not See It, Convergence From Canon, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Is Very Much Implied, F/M, It IS a Story about Vampires, Let's Get Some Representation In This Bitch, Past Abuse, Third person point of view, Twilight Rewrite, Witch Angela Weber (Twilight), blood mention, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thicc_succ_for_a_bucc/pseuds/thicc_succ_for_a_bucc
Summary: Reimagining of Twilight if Bella was bisexual, autistic and had ADHD.
Relationships: Alice Cullen/Jasper Hale, Carlisle Cullen/Esme Cullen, Edward Cullen/Bella Swan, Emmett Cullen/Rosalie Hale
Series: A Very Autistic Twilight Reboot [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693039
Comments: 25
Kudos: 58





	A Very Autistic Twilight Reboot

**Author's Note:**

> there are no autistic (ADHD) bella swan fanfics in the twilight ao3 tag. this is blasphemy. she’s the most autistic character to ever autistic in the twilight universe, and i will fight god AND stephenie meyer in a 7-eleven bathroom and win before anyone tells me differently. this fanfic is here to maybe rectify that. 
> 
> i’m writing bella like how i, myself, act and feel. 
> 
> this will also take a while to finish, because of who i am as a person, but it is what it is.
> 
> Edit: 4/09/20  
> \- Changed some inconstancies and fixed up a few paragraphs

Bella Swan was literally going to die because a vampire wanted to play fetch, with her as the stick. An honest to god, real life vampire. Bella always imagined herself dying in a car crash because she wasn’t paying attention, or dying of scurvy, or something normal like that. For her at least. Not because of a fictional creature from books and legends. That, not going t o lie, was surreal.

James, the vampire, was standing over her, but she could barely see him to understand her fate. She was bleeding out from a cut on her leg, and paying attention to him while blood was gushing out of her thigh like a waterfall was a bit much for her to pay attention to at the moment. Too many things going on at once, and she was losing the fight between sensory overload and the chance to stay alive because she couldn’t keep herself conscious, she was so woosy. 

Before she fell unconscious, she had one last sequence of thoughts. _I was going to die because I moved to Forks Washington. Forks was so_ weird. _First Edward, and now Jacob and recently, Angela. It was probably something in the water_.

* * *

Her mother was driving her to the airport, as Phil was already in Philadelphia. Reneé Dwyer was going to be with Phil there for some time, so Bella agreed she should just live with her dad for a while. Bella home alone for a long period of time was simply just not a good idea. Don’t get her wrong. She was fully capable of living alone in Phoenix. She would just probably set the house on fire accidentally out of boredom, or something else equally plausible. She was very impulsive and clumsy. So it was Forks, Washington, she went.

Bella was talking to her mom about the current book she was reading. Her mom was not an avid reader, but she knew her daughter needed to talk about what she was reading or she would explode, so she sat through the extended rants and then the ever so off-topic rants on relating books, or whatever her daughter was interested in at the time, while she drove. Bella had probably 50 physical books on her to head for Forks, and even more ebooks on her computer that she had got her hands on, with what was at her disposal. She refused to leave without her books. 

Bella wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings while she was talking about her most recent book find in the library, and by the time she was aware again, then she was being hugged by her mother to board the plane. 

“You be good now.” Reneé said, sounding clogged up. She was squeezing Bella tight, and it felt quite nice. 

“I won’t,” Bella said half-heartedly, clearly not paying attention. She was busy staring at something behind her mother’s head.

“Bella!” Her mother laughed. 

“What?” Bella asked, finally zoning back in. Her mother was looking at her in a way you would look at your dog that had just done something unusual but funny.

“I said be good now.” She laughed again, tears now a little more apparent, and face looking a little wrecked. 

“Mom you look all red and runny!” Bella announced tactfully.

Her mother just shook her head and pulled her in for another hug with a smile.

And then it was time to get on the planes. Plural. It was a four hour plane ride from Phoenix, to then fly in another small plane up to Port Angeles, and then an hour drive down to Forks. Bella didn’t mind the long journey it took to get to her father, because she had her books and she would be comfortable as she had her blankets. It was the ride back with her father she was a tiny bit worried about. 

She loved her dad, but she never stayed with him long enough to truly get comfortable to share the things she loved with him to the extent she wanted. Her mother was used to the full-swing of it, but Charlie wasn’t as easy to talk to as her mother. She wouldn’t even know how to broach most subjects with him, nevermind one of her books, which she could go on ad nauseam about until she was blue in the face. He wasn’t that big of a talker. She didn’t want to bother him with that kind of stuff. 

But he did seem pleased she was coming to live with him, with any degree of long-term. He had already gotten her registered for high school and was going to help procure her a car to lug herself around Forks.

When Bella landed, Charlie Swan was waiting for her with the cruiser. He was the chief of police to the good people of Forks Washington

“It’s good to see you, Bells,” he said with a smile, already pulling her into a hug. Bella honestly missed her dad. She hadn’t seen him in a while. 

She didn’t have a lot of clothes to bring to Washington. Bella preferred her clothes from Arizona, because they were thinner and less scratchy. The clothes she had to bring were very much irritating to her skin, because Washington was a rainy place, and she needed to be warm, but. She hated them. Polyester and ridges were her nemesis. The clothes’ bags she was able to bring all fit easily in the trunk of the cruiser.

“I found a good car for you, really cheap,” he said conversationally, when they were strapped in. 

“What kind of car?” Bella asked with an odd inflection in her tone, imagination going wild. She wanted to pay for it herself eventually, if she could, but she didn’t wanna be too ungrateful if it was an ‘ugly car’. Bella had the habit of...essentially throwing temper tantrums like a toddler if something doesn’t seem right to her, and it didn’t even necessarily make sense. It’s just who she’s always been, but now that she’s living with Charlie she didn’t want him to think she was a spoiled brat. She just had aspects of her personality that were different, that’s all. 

“Well it’s a truck actually, a Chevy.” 

Oh thank god. Bella loved trucks.

“Where did you find it?” She asked with growing excitement in her gut.

“Do you remember Billy Black down at La Push?”

“Not especially,” she said honestly. She was picturing basically every man she knew from there, which wasn’t a lot admittedely, and she was still drawing a blank. Bella was amazing with faces, but absolutely god awful with names. 

“He used to go fishing with us during the summer,” Charlie prompted, trying to be helpful. 

Bella shrugged.

“Well anyways, he’s in a wheelchair now,” Charlie continued, “so he can’t drive anymore, and he offered to sell me his truck cheap.”

“What year is it?” Bella asked, and she could see an expression pass Charlie’s face in passing, like he didn’t want her to ask that. She blinked, wondering why.

“Well, Billy’s done a lot of work on the engine - it’s only a few years old, really.”

“When did he buy it?” Bella asked anyway. 

“He bought it in 1984, I think.”

“Did he buy it new?” She continued. 

“Well, no. I think it was new in the early sixties - or late fifties at the earliest,” he said.

“Is it a hunk of junk?” She asked bluntly. Charlie wasn’t answering her questions. She wanted to know if it was driveable. 

“Bella!” Charlie laughed, surprised, hands on the wheel but jumping up in surprise. He forgot how blunt Bella could be sometimes. His daughter was certainly one of a kind. 

“Was that bad to say?” Bella wondered out loud. Bella had the unceremonial habit of blurting whatever thing came to her head. Sometimes it was funny, other times it could be unintentionally rude and made people not like her very much. She didn’t know why people didn’t like her, because she was just saying things that seemed obvious, to her at least. But all the same, she never had a lot of friends as a kid, and that quality about her stuck with her, to this day. She was a lot worse about it as a kid, though she sometimes slips up. Like probably now. 

“No it wasn’t bad, Bella. I know what you were trying to say. The thing runs great. They don’t build them like that anymore.”

The thing. The Thing. She liked that very much. ‘The Thing’. 

“How much was it?” 

“Well, honey, I kind of already bought it for you. As a homecoming gift.”

“Wow. Free.” She said with no inflection or outward sign of what she was feeling. 

Unbeknownst to Bella, Charlie gave his daughter a side glance. That was a little rude, but he didn’t say anything. He knew that she had no filter. Growing up, Bella had always gotten into a heap of trouble because of that mouth, but he didn’t want to make her ashamed of it. His daughter was who she was, and he loved her because of that, not in spite of it. She had autism, she wasn’t a space-alien. You didn’t have to remold her or punish her for living her life how she saw the world. 

Assuming her dad was done with the conversation bit part of the drive, Bella pulled out her well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice for the twentieth time, and time passed in a blur as she was sucked into the plot. She ultimately found Mr Darcy’s inability to speak his emotions, and when Emily Bennet spoke her mind, very relatable. 

Books were her escape. Growing up she didn’t have a lot of friends to play with, so she chose books as her daily companions. Along the way, the literature she read made her more aware that she wasn’t exactly like other kids, that she didn’t hold the same things of value. So she learned to be ‘normal’, as best as she could, but couldn’t quite manage, in some respects. But that was okay. She was Bella. Not any other kid. 

Eventually Charlie softly cleared his throat, and she looked up to find that they had arrived at Charlie’s. Charlie was aware she didn’t like to be touched when she was unawares. She smiled in appreciation at him. 

He lived in the two-bedroom house he lived in when he was still married to Reneė. That was in the early days of their marriage. Well, really, the early days were the only days. They weren’t married long before they were seperated, being together long enough to have Bella and realizing they weren’t actually compatible.

Charlie still loved Reneė, as they had a child together, and they were on good terms. But just as that - parents. Charlie was content in his life at the moment, and feeling very accomplished in his career. Reneė and him just wanted different things. And Charlie thought that Phil was a good guy. They talked on the phone a bit, then and there, when they had the time. 

There, in the front yard, was “The Thing”. It was a Red Chevy, like her dad said, and it was basically a huge toy truck. It was faded red with big, rounded fenders and a bulbous cab. She absolutely loved it.

Bella flapped her arms, clapping her hands because she couldn’t contain herself. Her very own truck! She couldn’t wait to drive it tomorrow. 

“Glad you like it, kid.”

She looked back at Charlie with a big grin, and he nodded at her, with a nice smile in place. It wasn’t bulbous, or showing teeth. It was just soft, and entirely that was entirely between her dad and her. 

With one trip between the two of them, they brought in all of Bella’s possessions for her stay in casa de Charlie.

Bella was in the west bedroom, facing out into the yard. The bedroom itself had a wooden floor, light blue walls, had a peaked ceiling, and yellowed lace curtains curtailing the window frame. This room had been hers every time she had come to stay with Charlie over the years. The only change to this room has been exchanging a crib for a bed and adding a desk and bookcase for her as she grew. 

Bella unpacked in silence, eventually getting sidetracked with things she forgot she left in her room from the last time she was here, such as old journals and drawings and other miscellaneous things. She was going to drown in these items before any of her clothes actually got put away, so she stopped. She’d continue later.

Looking around, she took the time to get used to her surroundings again, eventually wanting to feel like she’s lived here for months instead of having just arrived. She couldn’t discern how she felt about being in this room again. She did know she liked the blueness of her room. It reminded her of the ocean.

She was going to attend Forks High School tomorrow. It was a frightening prospect. Meeting a lot of people, and interacting with a lot of people was difficult enough, on a normal day. She was attending a brand new school, all alone. She had grown used to the routine of attending her old high school. She had no concept of navigating these new social waters. Was she going to be eaten alive? She couldn’t say.

Bella Swan, daughter of Charlie Swan, wondered if she was seeing the same thing through her eyes that other people were seeing through theirs. She had always been different. Bella didn’t relate well to people her own age. And even her mother, whom she felt she was closest to in the whole world, was never quite on the same page as her. 

Bella didn’t sleep well that night, a ball of worry in her stomach like a bezoar. And then there was the rain, the constant _whooshing_ of it, mixed with the wind, refused to fade into the background. It was making her agitated. She pulled the old quilt over her head, and then later added the pillow, too. She finally fell asleep teetering into the early hours of the morning, as the rain finally settled into a quieter drizzle. 

Thick billowing fog was all she saw out her window in the morning. 

Breakfast with Charlie was a quiet and calm affair. Charlie wished his daughter luck at school. She thanked him. Charlie left first, off to work. 

Bella didn’t want to be late for school on the first day, so she left. She had great difficulty with time management. If she didn’t leave now, she wasn’t getting there on time. Early was better than late.

Bella donned her jacket, which she also hated. It had the feel and texture of a biohazard suit, thick and stuffy and altogether uncomfortable.

It was just drizzling still, as Bella headed to her car. And immediately turned around, as she forgot to lock the door of the house. The back and forth made her feel icky, as the sloshing of her new boots made her not happy. She was used to the crunching of Arizona gravel, the hustle and bustle of city life. She would get used to this though. It just took time, she knew.

She couldn’t pause to admire her truck like she wanted, but she took solstice in the dry interior the truck provided, instead. The engine started quickly, but loudly, roaring to life and then idling at top volume. She covered her ears for a moment. _A truck this old was bound to have a flaw_ , she thought to herself.

Finding the school wasn’t too difficult, as it was just off the highway, like most things in the town. 

Bella parked in front of the first building, which had a small sign over the door reading ‘Front Office’. No one else was parked there, so she was sure it was most likely off limits to students, but she would get directions inside instead of driving around aimlessly and being late, like an idiot. She could never manage looking for stuff, under a time limit, and avoid entirely being late.

Inside, the building was brightly lit, and semi-warm. There was a woman behind the desk, so Bella went to her. 

“Can I help you?”

“Uhhm, yeah. I’m Isabella Swan.” She said, making and then quickly avoiding eye contact. She wasn’t especially fond of eye contact.

“Of course.” She dug through a pile of papers until she came across the ones she was looking for. “I have your schedule right here, and a map of the school.” 

Several sheets were brought to Bella’s awareness, and then the secretary, or the assistant, went over her classes for her. There wasn’t a sign and she didn’t know how to ask. She didn’t like the stress of having this much information thrown at her on the first day, much preferring to go about her day alone, and understanding her new surroundings by trial-and-error. She wouldn’t remember all of this information.

She was handed a slip of paper, and expected to have each teacher sign to bring back here at the end of her first day.

She was given a smile, and Bella gave her a smile back. She hoped it was a normal smile, and not the growing pile of nerves that was slowly crawling from last night’s anxiety up to her throat, where hopefully it wouldn’t come out as word vomit. Or actual vomit. She didn’t know. 

When Bella was walking back to her truck, she could see other students who were starting to arrive. She drove around school, following the line of traffic to see where to go. She cut the engine as soon as she was in her desired spot, not wanting to hear the thunderous volume any longer.

The map was a maze of classrooms, and Bella tried to memorize it as best as she could, but she was already stressed enough. She didn’t want to walk around with the map in her face all day, and walk into a wall or something, but she didn’t have the social skills to ask for help very easily. So she put the papers she had to get signed into her bag, while leaving the map out, and slung the strap over her shoulder. _I can do this,_ she thought feebly to herself. She got out of the truck.

Bella kept her face angled enough to see where she was going but making sure her hair and eyes were covered. She’s had bad experiences with kids touching her hair without express permission before, and she doesn’t like people trying to purposely meet her eyes. It was scary to her. 

She walked to the sidewalk, which was crowded with teenagers, following the crowd inside. Once she was herded around the cafeteria, building three was easily identifiable. A large black ‘3’ was painted on a white square on the east corner.

Her breathing was slowly changing from ‘normal breathing’ to ‘gradual hyperventilation’ as Bella approached the door. She waited by the door as she gathered her courage, people passing her and looking at her, but her staring off to the side, eventually biting the bullet and slinking behind two unisex raincoats through the door.

The people in front of Bella stopped just inside the door to hang up their coats on a long row of hooks. Bella copied them.

She took the slip of paper up to to Mr. Mason, who gave her an odd look, but gave her the signature she needed, and sent her to the back without an introduction, which she appreciated. 

There was a reading list given to her by Mr. Mason, and it had Bronte, Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Faulker literature on it. Every single one of those authors were dear to her heart, so she had already read everything. She was excited to go over them again with the class. She loved hearing people’s perspectives on her favourite books, and she wanted to talk about them more, but the prospect of writing all of the essays she had struggled back home with was a daunting one. She wondered if her mom would send her the essays she had already written, or if her mom would think that was cheating and Bella should try to apply herself more. Bella went through different arguments in her head while the teacher droned on, unknowingly tapping her feet quite noticeably, as she went from tactic to tactic.

The bell rang, a nasally buzzing sound that made her cringe. She didn't put her hands to her head like she wanted though, as she had experiences of people asking her why she did that. She’s learned not to do that anymore. It was deemed _weird_ , so it was on her list of things not to do in public.

“You’re Isabella Swan, aren’t you?”

She turned to see a boy with black hair staring at her. 

“Bella,” she agreed, staring at his temple. 

“Where’s your next class?” He asked.

Bella had to look in her bag for the answers.

“Um, Government, with Jefferson, in building six.”

She finally noticed a lot of people staring at the interaction taking place. There was nowhere to look without meeting curious eyes.

“I’m headed toward building four, I could show you the way. I’m Eric.”

Bella smiled tentatively at him, emotion bubbling under her skin. Someone was being nice to her!

He stared at her.

“Thanks!”, she added in an abortive measure, realising he was probably waiting for a response. 

He gave her a weird look but was nice enough not to say anything about it. 

They got their jackets and headed out into the rain, which had picked up in interim of class beginning and having ended.

“So, this is a lot different than Phoenix, huh?” he asked, for a lack of what else to say.

“Very.”

“It doesn’t rain much there, does it?”

“It rains three or four times a year.”

“Wow, what must that be like?” he wondered. 

“Sunny.”

“You don’t like very tan.”

“My mother is part albino,” she tried to joke, giving a very strange laugh.

He studied her apprehensively. _Bella was very...odd._ , he thought. _That’s okay though. I’m weird myself._

They walked back around the cafeteria, to the south buildings by the gym. 

“Well, good luck,” he said as Bella touched the handle to go inside. “Maybe we’ll have some other classes together.” He said hopefully.

“Thank you!”

He smiled at her, and she went inside.

The rest of Bella’s morning passed about in much the same fashion. The only aberrant thing happened was when Mr. Varner, Bella’s Trigonometry teacher, made her get up in front of the class and introduce herself. She would have hated this teacher, out right, anyways, based on the subject he taught. She absolutely abhorred math, as English was more suited for her.

“I’m Bella Swan.” She was about to sit down when her teacher cleared his throat.

“No?” She asked, making the class laugh. She didn’t understand why.

“I’m Bella Swan. I like to read.” She sat down. 

The teacher gave up. He could already tell Bella was different, though how different was lost on him. Charlie didn’t inform the school of Bella’s condition, figuring he would let Bella decide if they needed to know on her own. He had heard nightmare stories of schools knowing about children’s autism and taking liberties when they shouldn’t, figuring they knew more. Most cases, they did not.

After two classes, Bella started to recognize several faces in each class, if not their names. There was always someone braver than the others who would introduce themselves and try to ask Bella questions about her old life, or how she was liking Forks. She tried to be likeable. At least enough people introducing themselves to her meant she never needed to use her map.

One girl sat next to her in both Trig and Spanish, and she walked with Bella to the cafeteria for lunch. Bella couldn’t remember her name, so she smiled and nodded as she talked in length about teachers and classes. Bella didn’t try to keep up.

They sat at the end of a full table with several of her friends, who she was then introduced to. Bella pretty much forgot all of their names as soon as she spoke them, not meaning to. It was a lot to take in at once. The boy from English waved at her from across the room. 

It was there, sitting in the lunchroom, trying and failing to make conversation with seven curious strangers, when Bella was first made aware of them.

They were sitting in the corner of the cafeteria. There were five of them. They weren’t talking, and they weren’t eating, though they each had a tray of untouched food in front of them. It was safe to stare at them, as she wasn’t meeting a pair of interested eyes. But it was none of these things, that caught, or held, Bella’s attention.  
They didn’t look anything alike. Of the three boys, one was big - muscled like a serious weightlifter, with dark and curly hair. Another was taller, leaner, but still muscular, and honey blond. The last was less lanky, less bulky, with untidy, bronze-coloured hair. He was more boyish than the others, who looked like they could and should be in college, rather than students.

The girls were polar opposites. The tall one was statuesque, and very beautiful. Her hair was golden, gently waving to the middle of her back. The short girl was pixielike, thin in the extreme, with small features, cropped short and pointing in every direction.

And yet, they were all exactly alike. Every one of them was poised and graceful, and they all had dark eyes, despite the ranges in their tone of hair and skin. They also had dark shadows under their eyes, purplish, bruise-like shadows. She felt quite concerned. As if they were all suffering a sleepless night, or almost done recovering from a broken nose. Though all of their features were perfect.

But this is not why she couldn’t look away.

They were all devastatingly beautiful. Bella fell in love with their features, inspired to paint them like they were the Sistine Chapel and she was Michaelangelo. It was hard to tell who was the most beautiful, with their muscles or their hair or the way they carried themselves.

They were all looking away from each other, or everyone was looking away from them. As Bella watched, the small girl rose with her tray - unopened soda, unbitten apple - and walked away with a quick, graceful lope that belonged on a runway. She continued watching at her lithe dancer’s step, till she dumped her tray and glided through the back door, faster than she thought possible. Her face fell. She just _wasted food_.

“Who are they?” Bella asked the girl from Spanish class. 

She looked up to see who Bella was talking about, and over at the table one of them, the possible youngest one, looked at who Bella was talking to, and then his eyes slid to hers. 

They both looked away from each other, for altogether different reasons. 

It was as if he had looked their way because they had called his name.  
Bella’s tablemate giggled, and looked away too.

“That’s Edward and Emmett, and Rosalie and Jasper Hale. The one who left was Alice Cullen; they all live together with Dr. Cullen and his wife,” she said, under her breath.

Bella looked at them once more, and the boy who was looking at her was now looking at his tray, picking at a bagel to pieces with his fingers. His mouth was moving very quickly, almost imperceptibly. If Bella wasn’t hyperfocusing on them, she probably couldn’t even tell at all. It felt to her like he was speaking quietly to them.

Their names suited them perfectly.

“They’re...nice-looking,” Bella commented, not looking away from them. She really liked staring at them. They were far more than just nice-looking. They were extremely attractive, real-life, weird looking models. In the most beautiful way.

“Yes.” She agreed with a giggle.

“They’re all _together_ though - Emmett and Rosalie, and Jasper and Alice, I mean. And they _live_ together.” 

“Which ones are the Cullens?” She asked. “They don’t look related…”

“Oh, they’re not. Dr. Cullen is really young, in his twenties or early thirties. They’re all adopted. The Hales _are_ brother and sister, twins - the blondes - and they’re foster children.”

“They look a little old for foster children.”

“They are now, Jasper and Rosalie are both eighteen, but they’ve been with Mrs. Cullen since they were eight. She’s their aunt or something like that.”

“That’s really kind of nice - for them to take care of all those kids like that, when they’re so young and everything.”

“I guess so,” she admitted, almost sounding reluctant. “I think that Mrs. Cullen can’t have any kids, though,” she added.

“Why does that matter!?” Bella asked, strangely not liking that question. 

She looked at Bella, and she realized she made Bella _mad_. 

“It doesn’t matter really, Bella.” She said, wondering why Bella was acting so weird after what she said.

Throughout all of this conversation, Bella has been stealing peaks at the strange family. They continued to look at the walls and not eat. Even Bella knew that wasn’t normal. Although they were looking back at her now. She looked away, back to the girl she was talking to.

“Have they always lived in Forks?” She continued to question, as if the last question she had just asked didn’t make her yell, and make half the cafeteria look at her. Even the table with the Cullens and the Hales.

“No.” Bella was looked at incredulously, as if she should have known that. Or maybe about what she had asked previously. “They just moved down here two years ago from somewhere in Alaska.”

Bella felt something for them, suddenly, then. They were just like her. Outsiders. She wasn’t alone in her strangeness.

As Bella continued to examine them, one of the Cullens looked up and tried to meet her gaze, with evident curiosity. She looked swiftly away, but it seemed to Bella like his gaze held some kind of unmet expectation.

“Which is the boy with the reddish brown hair?” 

She peeked at him from the corner of her eye, and he was still staring. He looked slightly frustrated. She looked away again.

“That’s Edward. He’s gorgeous, of course, but don’t waste your time. He doesn’t date. Apparently none of the girls here are good-looking enough for him.” She sniffed.

“Did he reject you too?” Bella wondered out loud. 

She looked at Bella with a put out expression, but her tablemates laughed uproariously, nodding yes while laughing like hyenas.

“What’s so funny?” Bella asked, obviously not in on the joke, but trying to laugh along too. 

She glanced at him again. He was trying to stifle a full-fledged grin. 

After a few more minutes, the four of them left the table together. They were all noticeably graceful - even the big, brawny one. It was strange to watch. The one named Edward didn’t look at Bella again. 

Bella sat with the girl and her friends at the table longer than she would have if she was alone. She didn’t want to be late on her first day. One of her new acquaintances, who considerately reminded Bella that her name was Angela, had Biology II with her the next hour.

Angela and her walked to class together in silence. She was shy, too. When they entered the classroom, Angela went to sit at a black topped lab table exactly like the ones Bella was used to at her old school. In fact, all of the tables were filled but one. Next to the center aisle, she recognized Edward Cullen by his unusual hair, sitting next to that single seat.

As Bella walked down the aisle to introduce herself to the teacher and get her slip signed, she was watching Edward surreptitiously. He stared back at her again, meeting her eyes as she looked away, back to the teacher, with the strangest look on his face - it was hostile, it was furious. Bella looked away quickly, wondering what she did. She stumbled over a bag in the walkway as she was trying to get her thoughts in order. The girl sitting there giggled.

Bella noticed that his eyes were a very dark brown, almost coal black.

Mr. Banner signed her slip and handed her the book with no nonsense about introductions. She and him were going to get along, as much as teachers and students could get along. He had no choice but to send her to the one open seat in the middle of the room. 

Bella kept her eyes down as she went to sit by _him_ , bewildered by the antagonistic stare she had gotten from him. 

She didn’t look up as she set her book down on the table and took her seat, but he, himself, was posturing away from her, sitting on the extreme edge of his chair and averting his face from hers like something smelled bad. 

“Do I smell bad?” She blurted out. Edward turned to look at her, incredulously, as if he had been snapped out of thinking something intensely. 

“I had a shower today. I don’t smell bad.” She tried to explain, as if it was herself she had to convince. This whole day people had been laughing at things she had said, or not explaining things to her.

He continued to stare at her, but ultimately decided to ignore her. 

She looked forward again, trying to pay attention to the lecture. She had heard this before, something on cellular anatomy, but her thoughts were occupied by the boy sitting next to her. Slowly his hands returned to fists, and his weird posture returned. _Did she smell bad?_ She smelled herself. No, then. Not that.

He had the long sleeves of his white shirt pushed up to his elbows, and his forearm was surprisingly hard and muscular beneath his light skin. He wasn’t nearly as slight as he’d looked next to his burly brother. His arms looked really nice. 

The class seemed to drag on longer than the others. She wondered it if was because the day was finally coming to a close, or because she was waiting for his tight fist to loosen? It never did; he continued to sit so still it looked like he wasn’t breathing. What was wrong with him? Was this normal behavior? Bella questioned her judgement with the girl at lunch earlier today. _Maybe she wasn’t as resentful as I’d thought._

Bella peeked at him once more, and immediately regretted it. He was glaring down at her again, his dark eyes full of revulsion. She flinched away from him, shrinking against her chair. _If looks could kill_.

At that moment, the bell rang loudly, making Bella jump, and Edward Cullen was out of his seat. He rose fluidly - he was much taller than Bella thought he was - and he was out of the door before anyone else had gotten out of their seat.

Bella sat frozen, staring blankly after him. _He was so mean_. Bella began gathering her things, slowly, trying to block the growing emotion inside of her, feeling tears well behind her lashes. 

“Aren’t you Isabella Swan?” a male voice asked.

Bella sniffed. She looked over to see a blonde, baby-faced boy. He was smiling at her, but it fell when he noticed her face.

“Bella.”

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes.” She nodded decisively, already feeling her tears start to go away.

“Well, anyways. I’m Mike.”

“Hi, Mike.” She repeated.

“Do you need any help finding your next class?”

“I’m heading to the gym, actually. I think I can find it.”

“That’s my next class, too.” He seemed thrilled for some reason.

They walked to class together. He was a chatterer - he supplied most of the conversation, which made it easier for her. He’d lived in California till he was ten, so he said he knew how she felt about the sun. It turned out he was in Bella’s english class too, although she didn’t remember having seen him. 

He was the nicest person Bella had met that day.

As they were entering the gym, he asked, ”So, did you stab Edward Cullen with a pencil or what? I’ve never seen him act like that.”

Bella cringed. So that _wasn’t_ Edward Cullen’s usual behaviour.

“He probably smelled something bad.” Bella commended, wondering if Mike would tell her if she smelled or not. If he would be the final judge.

Mike laughed a bit. “I don’t know about that, Bella. He looked like he was in pain or something. 

“I don’t know. I never spoke to him.

“He’s a weird guy.” Bella saw him lingering, instead of heading to the dressing room. “If I were lucky enough to sit by you, I would have talked to you.”

“Thank you.” Bella smiled at him before walking into the girls’ locker room door. He was nice.

The gym teacher, Coach Clapp, found Bella a uniform but didn’t make her dress down for today’s class. Back in Phoenix, only two years of RE. were required. Here, P.E was mandatory all four years. Gym was her personal hell on earth.

Bella watched four volleyball games running simultaneously, pulling the skin on top of her hand continuously. Remembering how many injuries she had sustained - and inflicted - with her personal hand-eye-coordination, left her faintly nauseated.

Eventually the final bell rang at last. This time she was counting down the minutes until the end of class, so the bell didn’t catch her so off guard. Bella walked slowly to the office to return her paperwork. The rain had drifted away, but the wind was strong. Bella wrapped her arms around herself, already mentally at home, wrapped under her quilt with a good book.

When Bella walked into the warm office, she almost turned around and walked back out.

Edward Cullen stood at the desk in front of her. She recognized that tousled bronze hair. He didn’t appear to notice the sound of anyone entering. She stood, back pressed against the wall, waiting for the receptionist to be free.

He was arguing with the receptionist in a low, smooth voice. She quickly got the gist of the argument. He was trying to trade from sixth-hour Biology to another time - any other time. 

Bella tried to keep her cool, emotions rising to the surface again. This wasn’t the first time someone had asked to change classes because of her. It didn’t hurt any less, the second time around.

The door opened again, and the cold wind suddenly gusted through the room, rustling the papers on the desk, swirling Bella’s hair around her face. She couldn’t help but giggle, swatting at her hair in surprise. 

But Edward’s back stiffened, and he turned slowly - only to glare at her again. Her smile dropped, and she shrank back. For an instant, Bella felt genuine fear. _Was Edward going to hurt her?_

He turned back to the receptionist. “Never mind, then,” he said hastily, voice like velvet. “I can see that it’s impossible. Thank you so much for your help.” And turned on his heel without another glance at her, disappearing out the door.

Bella meekly went to the desk, eyes glued to it, handing her the signed slip.

“How did your first day go, dear?” the receptionist asked.

“Bad,” she said bluntly, and left quickly, not wanting to be in this place any longer.

When Bella trudged to her truck, it was almost the last car in the lot. She got in and sat there for a while, strong emotions making her attempt not to sob, taking gasping, hyperventilating breaths. She couldn’t breathe.

She remembered the last time she had a panic attack. She was 10 or eleven, and a group of boys had pushed her for the first time. Every time she tried to get up, she was just knocked to the ground by a different set of arms, over and over again. When she couldn’t catch her breath, the panic set in, she couldn’t think straight, and she couldn’t breathe. 

Eventually her mom was called, and she remembers later, at home, sobbing into her mom’s arms as her back was rubbed. She rubbed her back now, in the same motion, and it helped.

In five minutes she could breathe again, and she drove home, back to Charlie.

**Author's Note:**

> mom said it's my turn on the canon rewrite.


End file.
